Gunpowder God

by John F. Carr

  “Enough of that treasonous rot!”

  Princess Eutare jumped back as if she’d been struck.

  “Excuse my plain speaking, but some things have to be said. Too many of our subjects have become complacent, some are even beginning to forget where we came from. Others are too busy making new homes for themselves to think of all that we have lost. I left my father and too many good friends, like Harmakros, buried under the rubble of Tarr-Hostigos to ever forget. My heart will never let me abandon the homeland I grew up in and love. True, Kalvan has made us a nice sanctuary, but it is not home!”

  “What makes you think the Great King is not going to return to Hostigos?” Eutare asked.

  “Many things, but primarily the detachment of soldiers he sent to Hos-Agrys to aid the League of Dralm.” Rylla paused to remove her redstone pipe and tinderbox from their place above the hearth. “It’s got me so upset I don’t know what to do. Do you know that most of the soldiers that my husband chose for the detachment were those who were most vocal in their desire to quit this cold land and return to Hos-Hostigos?”

  Princess Eutare shook her head.

  “Well, it’s true. He was even talking of including Prince Sarrask until I put my foot down. I will not let him rob me of all my allies!”

  “Rylla, now you’re talking silly. The King probably thought that he’d send those who were most invested in returning to Hostigos off to fight in Hos-Agrys. There they will aid their cause most by helping the League of Dralm defeat Styphon’s Host. Once Styphon’s House is defeated, we’ll be able to return to Hostigos. See, that makes perfect sense.”

  Rylla just shook her head. “No, they’re not going to aid the League. The League of Dralm has already lost that war, they just don’t know it yet. They’re up against a host of proven veteran soldiers led by one of the men who drove us from our homeland. If my husband had really wanted to aid the League, he would have sent the entire army to aid them in their fight against the godless Styphoni. No, this was just a calculated move on his part to remove and silence his most vocal critics about staying here in Thagnor and the Upper Middle Kingdoms.

  “Kalvan’s happy wherever he lands and will move again if he needs to. Remember, my husband is a wanderer from the Cold Lands; why should he mourn the loss of our homeland? He is permanently exiled from his own. I’m just sorry I didn’t recognize it sooner….”

  “I think you’re wrong, Rylla. The Great King, in his speeches, cautions patience, saying that we will prevail over the Styphoni once the Great Kingdom wars have worn them down.”

  Rylla laughed. “You, too! That’s not what it looks like to me. What I see is Styphon’s House growing stronger, by conquering those independent rulers who might oppose them. If Grand Master Soton is victorious in Hos-Agrys: How will this make Styphon’s House weaker? No, no, after Soton’s victory they will own three Great Kingdoms, maybe four since the new king of Hos-Zygros is deeply in their debt. Only Hos-Harphax will stand alone and their new King is a minion of the Prince Phidestros, the very demon who orchestrated our defeat at Ardros Field.”

  Eutare looked pale. “It does make sense when you put it together like that. Still, the King always talks fondly of Hostigos. I truly believe he means to return.”

  “Ha! That’s because you don’t know him as well as I do. I love him, I truly do, but sometimes he makes me so mad I could chew iron horseshoes!”

  F⊕RTY-TW⊕

  I

  Another cloud of gray smoke rolled up the ridge and Captain-General Eukides sneezed loudly. The stench of brimstone was everywhere, even in his clothes and hair. They’d wasted over a moon half besieging Tarr-Kendreth, which they easily could have bypassed and starved out with a few companies left behind to see that it wasn’t resupplied.

  “Are you all right, sir?” asked Captain Dylon, who had retired with him and only joined the Union to be with his former commander.

  “I’ll be all right when those walls are breached,” he replied.

  The Captain sat down on the ground. “What a waste of time, sir. We could be halfway to Varthon Town by now.”

  Eukides nodded.

  The walls of Tarr-Kendreth showed a little more damage, but the gap was still at least a day away from being breached. Their biggest problem was that they didn’t have enough big guns, only nine six- and eight-pounders, with two twelve-pound bombards. The two big ones had been left behind when their carts had crashed going down a steep mountain trail. Nor did it help that the guns were firing uphill and at an angle. Had the castle garrison been larger the walls could have been repaired at night and this siege could have dragged on for moons.

  Holy Investigator Roxthar had taken advantage of their stalled siege to visit the local towns and villages and round up prisoners for his Investigation. He was also sly enough to keep the Investigation holding pens several marches away at the village of Tryon so that the soldiers didn’t have to listen to the screams of the tortured and dying. Eukides had visited their encampment once to see if the rumors were true and had almost been struck dumb by the sights that had accosted his eyes.

  “The Kendreth garrison would have surrendered a quarter-moon ago if it weren’t for their fear of being Investigated,” Eukides said. “Now, having nothing to lose, they are prepared to spend their lives to delay us.”

  “It’s that creature, Roxthar and his minions, we should be fighting,” Dylon said. “Not our neighbors. All this squabbling over gods and true gods—what a bunch of codswallop!”

  “I agree, but don’t say that where someone might overhear. Styphon’s ears are all over the encampment.”

  “I know. Maybe someone will silence him before this campaign is over.”

  Eukides nodded. By Galzar, this is no way to fight a war, he thought for the hundredth time. For now, however, he was stuck. If he retired from his command, he knew that Archpriest Roxthar would label him a traitor, or worse, a Dralmite. That meant he would never be able to return to his estates and would put all his family’s lives in jeopardy. He would have to remain at his post as captain-general until either the enemy was defeated or Roxthar was killed.

  Eukides had a few trusted soldiers who’d fought with him long ago and had volunteered to follow him into retirement. Captain Dylon had even promised to “slit that vile creature’s throat” before they left Kryphlon City. “I’ll have no lack of volunteers to accompany me, either,” he’d promised.

  He’d almost taken him up on it, but he’d given his oath to Prince Varion that he would command this rabble and he was a man of his word. Besides, Styphon’s Own Guard, who protected Roxthar and his minions, would never let such an affront to their paychests go unpunished. It was said that they took a high percentage of all gold, coins, jewelry and goods that were confiscated by the Investigators. It wouldn’t surprise him; he’d long ago come to the conclusion that Styphon was a demon, not a god, and his priests were little more than thieves and criminals.

  Unfortunately, for him and his command, Prince Varion had very expensive tastes and was deeply in debt. He suspected his Prince would soon wish that he had curbed his desires before he jumped into bed with Styphon’s House.

  II

  Lady Sirna was sitting at the desk Phidestros had built for her when she was staying at Tarr-Beshta, before Princess Arminta’s arrival. Desks had become quite the rage in Hos-Harphax now that all the royals had them. Hers was one of the first and while the craftsmanship was solid, it wasn’t inlaid with mother-of-pearl and gold like Queen Lavena’s. Still, it was a reminder of good times, times that sadly must lie in the past.

  Sirna picked up the vocowriter, disguised as an image of Allmother Yirtta’s shrine, and began to dictate her latest thoughts and experiences with the court. Media Seven in Dhergabar was doing a documentary on her life at Tarr-Harphax for broadcast on Home Time Line, where everything to do with Kalvan’s Time-Line was big news. She was flattered as well as pleased with all the Paratemporal Exchange Units she was making, enough that she could retire for
a long, long life and never have to work again. Although, that was not her plan; her next job would be with the Paratime Police. Being a minor celebrity wouldn’t hurt there either, as the Department was always looking for ways to brush up its image.

  “It’s been a very busy week. Captain-General Phidestros arrived in Harphax City with his retinue, his household and some thirty-five thousand soldiers. He made a triumphant entry into Harphax City where he is well loved, as long as he doesn’t make his stay permanent. Phidestros, or so the citizenry believes, is best loved from a distance. The Prince and his family and the entire Iron Band led a triumphant procession through the city to the Great King’s new palace.

  “At the palace entry, Prince Phidestros was escorted into the Royal Presence Room to greet Great King Geblon and swear oaths of allegiance and fealty to the new Great King during the Royal Investiture. All the realm’s electors, princes, dukes and counts attended to swear their loyalty and support of the new House of Geblon. There were mixed emotions among many, who feared that too much power was now invested in too few men. But for the most part even the princes were in a celebratory mood as this Investiture ended the Harphaxi Wars of Succession which had been going on, in one form or another, since Great King Kaiphranos’ death.

  “Great Queen Lavena, who was dressed in more glitter and gold than a Styphon’s Temple, was envied by every woman and girl in Harphax City. This ceremony was a pivotal moment for the future of the realm because many did not believe that Prince Phidestros would ever bend his knee to any man, much less a former subordinate. Obviously, they do not know or understand the bond between these two men which is as strong as that between brothers.

  “Afterwards, there was a Grand Ball and every prince, prominent nobleman, merchant, magnate and guild master in Hos-Harpahx was in attendance. Everyone who attended was given a Medal of Royal Presence made of solid gold and weighing in at over an ounce. They were a big hit.

  “After the ball, a few old friends met with the Prince in his quarters and got to view his new son, a bouncing little baby boy, by the name of Simocles. Simocles the Great is the most renowned and famous of the Zarthani kings and this little boy is going to have to rise high to do his name service. I must admit to feeling a stab of jealousy when I saw little Simocles, which proves I’m not completely over our belated romance. For his part, the Prince appears to be completely besotted with Princess Arminta, who is so bright and wise for an outtimer, it’s hard not to wish them both well despite our complicated and tangled history.

  “Prince Phidestros’ visit to Harphax City was short. He announced to the House of Electors, the following day, that he was the bastard son of the Great King Eudocles, the new ruler of Hos-Zygros. There was strong evidence that his father, at the behest of Styphon’s House, murdered the rightful ruler, Great King Sopharar; therefore, it was his duty to strike down the false king and regicide. While he did not say who would replace his father on the Ivory Throne, the general consensus among the City’s nobility and gentry was that it would be Phidestros himself, which was greeted with much relief.

  “Phidestros commands so many soldiers, has had such success in the field and has such a strong presence that everyone wished him well, to the extent that several princes pledged both gold and soldiers toward his adventure—anything and everything to get him out of Hos-Harphax as soon as possible—was my impression. They respect and revere him but more from far away than up close. What they don’t realize is that Phidestros is Great King of Hos-Harphax already, if only by proxy. He may not sit upon the Iron Throne but a man who would follow him to the ends of the earth does, and Great King Geblon will do whatever Phidestros asks. Geblon knows who seated him upon the Iron Throne and why.

  “However, Great Queen Lavena doesn’t have a clue about her new husband’s allegiance to the Prince and believes she will manipulate him herself. While it is true that Geblon is besotted with her great beauty, rivaled only by Great Queen Rylla’s among the royals, he knows a greater loyalty to his old commander and friend. If Lavena actually had an agenda, she might prove dangerous to the Throne and Phidestros’ ambitions. Fortunately, her greatest love is for jewels and pageantry, and her husband is more than happy to accede to her demands in this area.

  “The only possible conflict might come from her father Prince Sthentros, who was in attendance and may have designs of his own. He was complaining to anyone who would listen about the terrible destruction in Hostigos brought about by Styphon’s Investigation. Sthentros made noises that now his daughter has risen so high that he would be exiled were he to return to Hostigos, where he is forced to live like a poor member of the gentry rather than a Prince of Hos-Harphax. Phidestros clearly detests the man and gave him short shrift, but Great King Geblon was forced by his wife to listen to his harangues—”

  Her vocowriter began to emit a low beep that indicated a call was coming in from the outside, probably Maldar Dard, her contact with the Harphaxi Study Team. She pushed the center of the golden wheat design at the base and held the miniature shrine close to hear ear.

  “Sirna, it’s Dard here. Is this a good time?”

  “Yes, I’m alone. I was working on my next story installment for Sirna and the Great Queen. What can I do for you?”

  “We need to talk. There have been some strange developments back home. Some of our officers have been recalled back to Paratime HQ on Home Time Line. There’s talk of another Prole rebellion.”

  “On Home Time Line?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “At this point, it’s nothing but a rumor. Still….”

  Sirna’s heart leapt. The last uprising, the Prole Insurrection two centuries before, had been a disaster, causing millions of deaths and untold destruction. It had taken Home Time Line better than ten years to recover.

  “I just wanted to warn you in case I receive orders to shut the Harphaxi Study Team depot down.”

  “You think it might come to that, Dard?” she asked. Just when I was getting to really know and like him….doesn’t it figure.

  “I don’t know, Sirna. I just thought I’d warn you so you can decide now whether or not to accompany us, or stay here. We might not have much warning time.”

  “I’m going to stay here,” Sirna blurted out, “no matter what.”

  There was silence on the other end.

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

  “Sure, I’ll see you at the King’s Inn at 1800 hours.”

  “Until then,” she replied, her heart quickening. Am I more worried about him having to leave, or is it seeing him again that’s stirring up all these feelings? she wondered.

  F⊕RTY THREE

  I

  The Zarthani Knights, under Commander Orocles, had made their way through the Princedom of Cythor, along the Arbelon Trail, with good speed. Every town they reached had victuals and horse remounts if necessary waiting for them, thanks to the advance work done by Styphon’s couriers. They were passing through the territory held by the Union of Styphon’s Friends and it wasn’t until they passed through Cythor and drew close to the border watch station at Arbelon that they realized something was wrong.

  “What is it, Longshanks?” Horse Master Sarmoth asked his oath-brother, who was among the advance scouts.

  “The watchtowers are deserted, sir.”

  Sarmoth looked over at Knight Commander Orocles. “That does not bode well, sir.”

  Orocles frowned. “Could it be that the Zcynosi have learned of our march and have prepared a trap?’

  Sarmoth shook his head. “If so, they would have manned the watch station with their own troops wearing the livery of Prince Phrynoss; we would have ridden right by and into whatever surprise they had in waiting. It could be an outbreak of the plague!”

  Commander Orocles made the sign of Styphon’s sun-wheel upon his breast. “May Styphon bless us,” he muttered. The plague was the greatest enemy of all armies.

  “I’ll take an advance party, sir, and reconnoit
er the area.”

  “Take a Point and if it is the plague, fire your pistols.”

  Sarmoth noted Commander Orocles didn’t say “don’t bother to return, but look after yourselves;” it was understood.

  Sarmoth led his own Point, which consisted of six men, himself, two confrere knights, two sergeants and one oath-brother. The rest of the detachment waited at a small stream, eating rations and watering their horses. Sarmoth, despite his outward show of fortitude, was shaking inside. There were few things on this earth he feared, but of them the plague was foremost. He held no fear for anything or anyone he could see with his eyes; it was the things that lurked beyond his ken that worried him.

  Longshanks, speaking in his native tongue, said, “I did not smell the plague, brother. I suspect other devilment is abroad.”

  Sarmoth replied in the same tongue, “I hope you’re right, my brother. I have not come so far to be laid low by such an ailment.”

  They passed through several stands of trees and a large meadow before arriving at the border station. As Longshanks had reported, the watch stations, squat towers made of stone, were deserted. Inside the station on the Arbelon side of the border they found a drunk guard passed out on the floor.

  “What’s this mean?” one of the Knights asked.

  “Maybe the League of Dralm has been defeated and the guards are celebrating.” someone else added.

  Sarmoth frowned. “We are not so favored by the gods. Let us move into Kyris Town and see what we discover. Maybe something there will illuminate these mysteries.”

  The small party left the main trail, dismounted and led their horses toward the town. The sounds of merriment ensured their way and it wasn’t long before they approached the first out-buildings, mostly old farms and a buttery. Drawing closer to the town, they followed the sounds of laughter and heckling to the center square where several hundred townsmen and guardsmen were gathered in a throng.